twig

Looking at the glade a distracted eye would not know there was a conference going on. And it wasn’t only because the master of ceremonies always started his speech way before most guests had arrived. He was a stickler for punctuality, whereas most of the invitees knew to get there only after he had gotten the puns out of his system. He would always say them all, almost without context, amusing himself with the little jokes that everyone had heard a million times. How they lived in the sticks and...